Steak and RH Day
by spikesvamp79
Summary: It's Steak and RH day and Molly and Sherlock celebrate accordingly.


The characters are not mine. All mistakes are mine.

When Molly had received a text from Sherlock asking if she was free for the weekend, she figured that he was on a case and needed her help in the lab. She had told him that she was free and had been given instructions to pack a bag because he was taking her with him to a little town several hours north of London to investigate several murders. The town happened to lack a coroner and so when the lead police investigator had requested help from NSY, he had also requested that they send up a pathologist of some sort. Lestrade had contacted Sherlock and asked who he would like from Bart's. Sherlock had responded with his choice of Molly right away, and so the two found themselves on case in one of the smallest towns in the world.

It had proved to be rather interesting when the whole town had been part of the cover up for a drug ring. Neither Sherlock nor Molly had anticipated what a large conspiracy it had been, but with some help from the neighbouring police forces, those responsible had been caught and locked away. The two were now returning to London in the car Sherlock had rented. No train came close enough to it, so the Range Rover was the next best option. Given that they both lived in the city, there was something rather pleasant about being out on the open road and enjoying the sunshine and open fields.

As they drove, Molly suddenly remembered the date. March fourteenth. In addition to being pi day, it was also another holiday. A rather raunchy holiday. A holiday that she really shouldn't know existed. But, due to a friendship with a rather outgoing friend, she knew that March 14 was also steak and r.h. day. Most people referred to it as steak and b.j. day, but she preferred the idea of r.h. or road head. With this thought in her mind, she glanced over at the man driving. She wasn't sure if she had ever even been in a car with a man on this day. She wondered what would happen if she leaned over and began to stroke him with the intention of taking him in her mouth.

Her and Sherlock's relationship had been rather positive of late. She had used one of his experiments in a paper that she had publish last month and he had been more than willing to help her with writing and getting through it. Despite some arguments at the beginning, they had ended up working rather well together and ended up producing a terrific paper. During the bizarre case, he had been kind to her and the two had done rather well. As much hope as this gave Molly, she knew that while their friendship/partnership may be doing just fine, Sherlock was not a man who would appreciate her advances. With a wistful glance over him and one last look at the area of her fascination, she sighed and turned to gaze out the window. She continued her fantasy in her mind when his voice broke in. "What?" he questioned.

Molly turned, startled by his voice. "What what?"

"Why did you sigh?" he asked. Molly's cheeks turned pink.

"I'm just tired," she replied.

"No, you're not." He turned to observe her. She felt like a specimen under a microscope as he gazed at her. "You're sexually frustrated," he concluded, a smirk breaking on to his face.

"What! No, no, no, I'm fine! I'm just fine." She turned back to the window when she heard the sound of a zipper. A shock went through her gut as she turned to look at him.

Never taking his eyes off the road he spoke, "I know what today is and as much as I dislike the day and its meaning, I would not be opposed to what you desire."

Molly was doing her best not to hyperventilate. She was about to shout at him to close it up and remain silent until they returned to London, but then she made a rash decision not to. Taking a deep breath, she sighed and turned to him. His eyes remained focus and his hands were on the wheel. Running her hands up his thighs, she made her way to his crotch. She reached inside and pulled out his cock, which was already half hard. Molly realized that he had become aroused at the thought of her taking him in her mouth. This brought a smile to her face and gave her the encouragement that she needed.

At the sight his hard member in her hands, Molly felt her panties become drenched. She wanted him. She had wanted him for years, and this was almost too much for her. Using her hands, she brought him to full hardness and then descended on him with her mouth. As she took him in all the way, a loud groan reached her ears and she felt his hand leave the wheel and bury itself in her hair. She began to move, up and down, increasing the suction and taking him further into her mouth. Molly put her hand down to gently stroke and play with his balls as her mouth continued to move on him.

The car was soon filled with the sounds of Sherlock's moaning as he approached his end. His hand tightened in her hair and she felt his semen begin to leak out. Deciding to be really brave, she sucked even harder, taking every drop from him. When there was not a drop left, she released him and tucked him back in his pants. Without looking at him, she sat up straight and turned her gaze back out the window. She heard the sound of his zip once more. Daring a peak at him, she saw that the usually composed man looked rather undone. His hands were loose on the wheel; his hair was mused where he had been running his hands through it; his trousers were wrinkled; he sat back in his seat, looking like a man who had just been thoroughly blown. Molly smiled at what she could do to him. She was quite proud of her work.

As she allowed her smile to take over her face, she was surprised when she felt his hand on her leg. Moving upwards, he rubbed gentle circles on her thigh, growing closer to her center. He lightly ran his fingers over her center drawing a shaky breath from her. "Take your pants off," he said in an even deeper voice than Molly had heard. She quickly unbuttoned and took off her jeans but left on her panties. He continued to move over the cloth which only served to increase Molly's arousal. Suddenly, he moved underneath them and sank into her. Molly let out a moan at the feeling. His long digits curled inside of her, hitting the right spot.

She closed her eyes and gave over to the sensation of Sherlock's fingers bringing her closer and closer to the brink. His thumb found her clit and moved over it. This was the motivation she needed to finish. With one last thrust, she felt her release move through her. He slowly removed his fingers from her, but before he could wipe them on the seat, she grabbed his hand and sucked her juices off of him. She looked him in the eye as she did so and saw a look of pure desire go over his face. Releasing his hand, she pulled her pants up and resumed staring out the window. Sherlock returned his focus back to the road, but took one hand off the wheel to hold on to her hand.

Molly figured that he would drop her off at her apartment right away; however, he pulled up to a restaurant and let a valet park the car. She wordlessly got out of the car and joined him at the entrance. He took her hand once more and led her inside; he gave his name to the hostess and they were seated right away. They weren't handed menus and when the waiter came, Sherlock grabbed him and whispered their order to him. Molly couldn't understand what was going on, but decided to just enjoy herself. Soon, the two were enjoying a nice bottle of wine. Their conversation was amiably, albeit completely ignoring the elephant in the room. When their food came, it was all Molly could do to not burst out in laughter. Sherlock had ordered two rather large steaks. He looked up at her and smiled.

AN: I am so sorry. I have no idea what gave me the idea to write this, but I blame it and all my knowledge of the fact that today is steak and RH day on a guy I used to work with.


End file.
